Sometimes, I miss the child me but then, in another instant, I realise that she is too innocent and pure for the deceitful people and events that this world is full of. She is as blind as law who doesn’t see any flaw in any person until it is not evidently proved. Then, she gets hurt and puts all the blame on herself.
She is more courageous and less fearful than me though. She is full of positivity. She is more outgoing, adventurous, zealous, passionate, cheerful though silent mostly to other people. She believes in fantasies. She believes! Of course, she is more happy because she is carefree.
She doesn’t has much friends but she has her own philosophies. She lives in her own world, understands it and is comfortable in it. She doesn’t really feel the need for anybody else to make her feel worthy because she doesn’t understand criticism, so she doesn’t care.
Now, everything bothers me. I am trapped in a cycle of thoughts and its speed varies at various times. I don’t know what to believe and what to defy. But she was too good for this world. Good for her that she left or stays hidden all the time. The world doesn’t deserve her good treatment. They still prove her time and again that they are unworthy of her justice and innocence.
She would have forgiven, I don’t. She treated people as she expected to be a human treatment. I treat people as they deserve to be treated, which I decide by their behaviors and actions towards me. She is the most beautiful version of me but she is not who I am truly.
I am a rage. I am who I am now. A person who shouts against injustice, who doesn’t tolerate any nonsense or misbehavior, who is more aware. This is who I am. She just visited for a while and tried to be a part of my personality. She was sent by my family as she focused on making them and the society happy but I am not happy with her. I am happy and content with who I am, even if I am at a war with myself more often than not. My child me was the fake me, painted under the layers of societal norms. Now, who I am after I have found myself again, is who I am truly. I am true and content, if not happy. I am not proud of her but I am proud of myself, of who I am now, of my authentic self.